


doubt thou the stars are fire

by LadyMD



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cersei Wins, F/M, Moral Dilemmas, Pining, Sansa and Daenerys are prisoners, Who Do You Love?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMD/pseuds/LadyMD
Summary: "So what's the plan then?""Plan?""How are we getting out?"Sansa almost gave her a sympathetic smile. They had no dragons now. Their army is scattered - both what's left of the dragon queen's army and the Northerners won't move recklessly, not when Cersei has Daenerys and herself as prisoners.And not one of Cersei's prisoners were alive.Sansa swallowed. "Jon." She swallowed again. "She'll make Jon choose," she barely whispered, and looked away feeling small and defeated herself while Daenerys paled.They both knew what Jon would do.Season 8 AU where Cersei wins and has both Sansa and Daenerys as prisoners.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 93
Kudos: 223





	1. A wolf in the fold

**Sansa**

She caught herself from sighing once more as her…_companion_, stood up and started pacing around the room--too restless and terribly enraged.

“You’ll just tire yourself out, Daenerys,” she started, all formalities dropped by the third day of their captivity.

She watched as the former Dragon queen (Euron saw to that when he shot the black beast with the scorpion) stilled with her hands on her hips as she huffed in frustration while she walked over and took the seat next to hers with another groan.

Three days of captivity and Daenerys’ face and armor were still covered in soot, her violet eyes volatile, burning and dulling—fury and frustration, yet boring into hers now—almost pleading.

“How are you so calm?” she demanded.

Sansa almost laughed at that - almost bitterly even. Instead, she offered a shrug, while stroking the end of her needle necklace. “You forget, Daenerys, that I’ve been here before."

She knew without looking up that Daenerys would have a cross of guilt and pity in her look. She knew that despite it all, this woman had a soft spot for mistreated girls. But guilt and pity - she'd really rather not have either. 

Silence stretched as it had between them, the tension they had since Winterfell still lingered.

"How did you survive?"

Sansa looked at her then and saw Daenerys, for the first time since they’ve met—looked defeated and she, for the first time, had no words to offer.

Daenerys grabbed her hand then, barely stopping herself from wincing. “You were always the clever one. Tyrion always said so.”

She paused for a moment before she sniffed and allowed a corner of her mouth to twitch, “That’s what they might see now, but really, like what I told someone before, I’m a slow learner. It’s true.”

She looked her straight in the eye, “But I learn.” She pulled her hand away. 

Something like respect but still laced with suspicion glinted in Daenerys’ eyes. She was about to add that it doesn’t matter if they thought her clever or not since she’s here.

_Here. _

King's Landing. 

A prisoner once more.

A _Lannister _prisoner once again. 

“So what’s the plan then?”

Sansa blinked. "Plan?"

Daenerys huffed in frustration. “How are we getting out?”

_“I lie awake at night thinking of ways of killing my enemies.”_

“Sansa.”

What can she say?

“We’re not getting out, are we?” Daenerys leant forward, trying to catch her eye again.

Sansa closed her eyes and sighed after seeing her companion's former stony facade, cracking in the edges. “You’ve parleyed with Cersei before," was her only reply.

Sansa opened her eyes and watched the silver haired woman’s eyes grow tight and almost teary, probably remembering the day Cersei had her beloved friend and adviser beheaded in front of her.

But just as quickly, she saw Daenerys' hands grip her skirt tightly as she shook her head furiously. 

“It can’t end that way. My men are still out there. Jon—

At that Sansa's chest ached and then suddenly she knew.

It must’ve shown on her face because Daenerys stopped talking and looked at her expectantly.

Sansa swallowed. “Jon.” She swallowed again. “She’ll make Jon choose,” she barely whispered, and looked away, feeling suddenly small and defeated herself.

She looked up when she head the tiniest whimper and saw as Daenerys paled, her eyes wide and catching a sheen.

And then suddenly it was all too clear, so very clear, she didn’t bother to stop the tears that came as she watched the same realization in her co-captive’s eyes - tears were threatening to pour from them as well.

They both knew what Jon would do.

Sansa looked out the window and clutched her needle tighter, almost breaking skin. 

_Only one of us can leave alive...that was Cersei's bait and knowing Jon..._

_Jon would--_

_Oh Jon._

But a whisper of _what if _caught up with Sansa, no matter how hard she suppressed it. 

She took a quick glance at Daenerys and did her damnedest to keep her heart intact before it wavered too far, too long, too broken. 

_ What if._

_What if he chooses Daenerys._

_ What if...._

_Would he choose m--_

No. He wouldn't. 

Oh Gods. She knew what he would choose.

She gripped her skirt. Fresh tears blooming in her eyes.

_Oh he would. He would. _

And what would that choice _gain? _

And somehow, as she glanced at Daenerys once more, she knew that Daenerys knew as well what Jon would do.

_"Don't you have faith in me at all?"_

Her breath almost hitched at that sudden memory as she clutched at her needle tighter and looked out the window, knowing that straight ahead beyond the chaos, the Godswood that has witnessed all her suffering in this godforsaken place was there and, for the first time in the longest time, she prayed. 

For what it's worth, she prayed.

_Please._

She bit her lip.

_Let Jon do what is needed._

Her other hand shifted to grip her arm rest while she rested her head against the window sill, her eyes shut tight. 

She has to believe that Jon knew her enough to know it was okay.

_Help him do what is right._

Sansa let out a breath and chose to follow her trust in him and imagined that when they saw each other next, she'd just nod and he'd know.

She was tired. She was afraid. But she was braver. 

_One last time, for Bran, for Arya, for the North... _

In a few hours, maybe days, maybe weeks she'll stand before the cursed Iron Throne once more. 

One last play.

This is just another game of cyvasse.

_And I must protect the king. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've posted a blurb of this months ago on my tumblr (ladywolfmd btw if you want to say hi) and the response truly surprised me. I'm effing blown away. So, thank you for that! Truly! Made my days and weeks, and I still can't get over it to be honest. So I promised myself to have something out by November now that I finally have *some* time. 
> 
> I know, I've been MIA here for almost two years. YIKES. And I still have some WIPs collecting dust. DOUBLE YIKES. But I really want to finish at least one new fic and this would be it. 
> 
> Okay. So this has maybe 4 parts. So far. I don't know. Do you guys like it? Hahaha I'm still dying from sleep deprivation from residency (only 1 year and 1 1/2 months to go guys adgagadgagadg) so might as well be productive...well, productive not medically. ;) 
> 
> So far there will be 4 POVs. Who do you want to hear from next?
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I've been a while. I'm sorry.


	2. Into the pride of lions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm sorry. My schedule has been totally brutal and unpredictable. I'll know some stability by March I'm afraid, but for now, here's the overdue second chapter. :)

**Cersei**

So may options.

So many ways. 

Any choice, _revenge. _

Cersei could barely hide her smirk as she took another sip of her Dornish red she still had from raiding the hellish wasteland after the dragon bitch burnt the stores they should've gotten from the Reach. 

It wasn't _that_ hard. 

After she rid Dorne of the bastard cunt who thought herself ruler of Dorne, leaving her to starve as the last of the flesh had rotted and withered from her slut daughter down the black cells, the destabilized Dorne was too easy for her mercenaries to gain control of while the dragon bitch and her bastard lap dog did the _honors_ of ridding the world from the _ice _creatures.

She could see some light treacle in from the stained glass windows, ready to illuminate the throne room showcasing reds and golds and lion shadows from where she sat on the godforsaken Iron throne, almost completely satisfied, nearly there, yet terribly, and incredibly, hungry still.

_"I do things because they feel good. I drink because it feels good. I killed my husband because it felt good to be rid of him. I fuck my brother because it feels good to feel him inside me. I lie about fucking my brother... because it feels good to keep our son safe from hateful hypocrites. I killed your High Sparrow... and all his little sparrows... all his septons, all his septas, all his filthy soldiers, because it felt good to watch them burn. It felt good to imagine their shock and their pain. No thought has ever given me greater joy."_

With one final indulgent caress of the cursed chair, Cersei rose. 

* * *

There she was, despite the disheveled gown that was far too warm, her hair a fright, Sansa Stark still manages to be a picture of perfect _grace _despite the mocking tone of her curtsy. 

"You wanted to see me, _your Grace."_

Ah there it was, at last. The ice in her eyes, the wolf in her voice. She was almost proud. 

But how long would that last? 

Cersei gestured to one of the chairs and stood to fix her a glass. 

"Come now, little dove. I merely wanted to catch up with you," she placed the cup of Arbor Gold in front of her and took a seat across from her, noting how Sansa held an impressive mask of indifference, silently taking the cup and immediately bringing it up to her lips to drink.

Truly impressive. "How trusting. You must hold me to some regard, seeing as you didn't think twice in drinking an untested cup." 

Sansa daintily wiped the wine off her lips and twitched her lips while she looked her straight in the eye. 

"If you wanted me dead, you would've already. Poison is too easy. Even if it was the same as what killed Joffrey," she took another sip. "What was it called?"

Cersei wanted to slap her but she stayed. Oh the wolf has grown fangs indeed. 

Matching her smirk, "The Strangler," she answered. "A gift from the Lady of Thorns to save her precious slut daughter," she chuckled. "But for what? Only for her to lose all her future in one green fire." 

Sansa put her cup down and Cersei saw her eyes soften. Oh yes, they were friends. "Little dove, you know she betrayed you too." 

Sansa looked up at her then and tilted her head. 

"Margaery wanted to be Queen so bad, it didn't matter who she married to get the crown. She likely knew what her mother was planning. Yet when I made Tyrion's whore talk of you and my dwarf brother's treason--"

She heard Sansa gasp then. "Shae?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Surprising. Ah. Her little brother must probably still have some tolerable regard in her eyes if she didn't know this part. 

"Little dove, your Volantene _friend _sang a pretty tale of how you and your husband plotted together and killed my son. So you see, your friend Shae betrayed you. Even Margaery, who did nothing but let that happen, let you be a fugitive even as she knew the truth. Margaery betrayed you. Olenna betrayed you."

Sansa was unnervingly still and that wouldn't do so Cersei grabbed her hand and made her look at her. "My little dove, even Tyrion betrayed you. He never told you he killed the whore, didn't he? Why? To preserve your image of him?" 

Sansa tried to wrench her hand away as she let her emotions show for once, her baby blue eyes were cold as steel as they bore into her, making Cersei smile, enjoying her torment. 

"Baelish betrayed you too." Cersei let her go then and refilled Sansa's cup. "But I, little dove, I've only ever been truthful to you. I even tried to save your father."

Sansa shook her head and downed her cup. "You wanted me miserable." 

Cersei tutted. "Do you remember the last time we were here? In this solar? Just you and I?" 

Sansa toyed with her cup. "Yes."

"You had just flowered, and do you remember what I told you?" 

Sansa looked away. "The more people you love, the weaker you are." 

Cersei nodded and raised her glass to her. "Your memory is impeccable. Now tell me, was it hard?"

Sansa blinked. "What was hard?"

Cersei practically giggled. "Sacrificing your little brother? What was his name? The wild one? Rickard?"

Sansa clenched her teeth. "His name was Rickon." 

"Ah yes, Rickon. So how was it?" 

Sansa said nothing but now all out glared at Cersei. 

"How disappointing. You always knew how to disappoint me. I would've understood, you know. He was as good as dead. And you had higher stakes in play. This is how it's always been, when you start playing the game and start winning."

She could see her clenching and unclenching her hands on her lap. "It paid off, didn't it? You made your mother proud. Killing your abusers, winning back your home, becoming the Lady of Winterfell, amassing followers. Why, you manage to outlive most anyone that did you wrong. Which brings me to another lesson, I taught you. Tell me, little dove, were you able to use it?"

"Use what?" she said through gritted teeth. 

"A woman's greatest weapon, of course. It's what you did with Baelish, didn't you? And maybe even a few stubborn Northern Lords?"

Sansa stood up then, "I have _never--"_

"That's right. You were a maiden when you tried getting the Bolton bastard to give you Winterfell. But that didn't work, did it?"

It was truly entertaining to see Sansa struggling to keep her emotions in check. Oh she struck a chord. She knew what the bastard did to her. Once she would've felt pity, but all she knew then was that she was getting her due for killing her son. 

"But I applaud your revenge, my sweet. Feeding him to his hounds--for that, I am proud. I thought, well, that stupid girl finally learned something from me." She toasted her again.

Sansa sat back down. "What do you want? Just do it and be done with it. Have you had your fun yet? Tormenting me with all the people I've trusted who ended up betraying me? No, there's more, isn't there? I won't die by poison or beheading."

Cersei laughed loudly then. "Dying? Who said anything about dying? I have learned through all these years that while there is satisfaction in killing my enemies, keeping them alive in torment is even more so delicious." 

"And your death, won't be on my hands. Well atleast, not for tomorrow."

She looked confused then. 

Cersei stood up and ushered Sansa to do the same, steering her towards the large window and pointing beyond the gate, stooping low to whisper over her shoulder. 

"Do you see the gates? Do you know what's beyond that? Or rather, who?"

Sansa stiffened. 

"Your brother is there. Waiting for the tiniest slip from my guards. But who will he be rescuing, I wonder?" 

Sansa swallowed but the brave thing, she'll give her that, spoke levelly. "My brother shall do what is right." 

She squeezed Sansa's shoulders. "Oh the honorable Jon Snow will do what is right? Same way he gave away your kingdom to his foreign whore? It's almost like a second coming of your handsome older brother--that led to his demise. Tell me, Sansa. Are Stark men truly without wits when it comes to exotic cunts?" 

Sansa managed to shake her off. "I trust Jon." 

Cersei cackled. "Is that why you broke your promise to keep his secret?"

Sansa looked at her surprised. "How did you--

"Jon Snow betrayed you when he chose the dragon whore. It's only right you forfeit your promises to your _cousin."_

She glared at her. "I have faith in him. No matter what."

"Still, it hurts, doesn't it?"

"What?" 

"We're not that different, you and I."

She saw the moment she understood the accusation. There was no use hiding. Cersei knew the look of unrequited love, the devotion, the desperate moves well. And of course, one well placed spy who happened upon them inside the same broken tower Jaime fucked her in before he pushed the Stark lordling, crippling him. Nothing explicit truly happened. But it was intimate all the same. Too intimate for _siblings. _

How utterly ironic. 

But the wolf, cornered as she was, finally drew her claws and showed her fangs when she replied.

"You would know then, the pain of being walked away from."

Cersei slapped her then, but Sansa just touched her cheek and laughed.

"It won't work, _your grace. _Kill me now or tomorrow, I choose to stand with Jon. I trust him to do what's right. Because unlike you Southerners, the North remembers, and a Stark always does their duty." 

But Cersei stood her ground, counting on the Stark men idiocy. She too would trust Jon Snow to make the erroneous choice. 

"Even if it ends with your death?"

Sansa smiled, almost serenely. "The moment I was forced to step foot on land beyond the Neck, I knew that there was a possibility of not coming back, for I promised myself I would never willingly set foot on Southern soil. I've made my peace."

"So sure are you that he won't choose you?"

Sansa kept on smiling. "The North doesn't need me anymore. I have a sister and a brother, both powerful enough to defend the North. Jon doesn't need me anymore. I have secured his kingdom, both kingdoms. He will need Daenerys. And together, they will destroy you and whatever is left of your so-called legacy. So you might as well kill me now."

It was Cersei's turn to laugh. "That's a good try. But no, little dove. I won't kill you today. That is a promise. Nor will any harm come upon you from now until the choice is made. You think you're so clever. Secured his kingdoms? Laughable. We shall see tomorrow."

"Until then, little dove, sleep well."

* * *

Cersei sipped her wine, only barely listening as Qyburn droned on and on about the so-called, _greatest army in the world, _was stuck on a stand still outside the gates the Red Keep, as were the Northern savages led by the idiot Stark-_no-_Targaryen welp of Rhaegar and, she almost scowled, _Lyanna _Stark.

Seven hells, must that bitch be the bane of her existence? 

Her lip curled as she took another sip. 

Maybe she really could have everything. 

As was her due. 

_"**Queen** you shall be... until there comes another, **younger** and **more** **beautiful**, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."_

She almost choked a laugh. 

_I don't have just one queen, I have two. _

And contrary to what the hag said, Cersei had absolutely _nothing _to lose. 

Only gain. 

"Is there something wrong, your grace? Does your womb still ache?" 

A minute chink in her armor shone for a second before slotting into place just as fast as she grinned at Qyburn. "I am the peak of health, my Lord Hand." 

A part of her grieves for the child that bled away three moons past, but no longer. Not when her father betrayed them. 

Her, because she knew in her heart that she was having a daughter. 

But no longer. 

Cersei stood up, decided, as she walked towards the window. 

No dragons. Just men. 

Desperate men. 

"Write this down."

She heard her Hand scramble on their table, acquiescing most eagerly. 

_"To the Bastard King and Traitor Jon Snow,_

_You have no dragons. My men outnumber your own--whoever is left who still answers to you anyway. _

_But most of all, I have your women."_

She paused, her cheek aching from delicious glee. Women. She knew he fucked the dragon bitch, but she also knew, if he hadn't already, he wanted to fuck his beloved sister. Which makes this next part all the more... delightful.

_"Come midday tomorrow, I will open my gate to you and you alone. You may take a horse, it matters not. We shall meet at the throne room, you will kneel before your rightful queen and vow to take your army back to your Northern wasteland, or back to the Eastern shores, I care not. And to show you I acknowledge you as Warden of the North, I will grant you a boon. _

_Two false queens, I have in my possession. Come midday, you get to save one while the other shall breathe her last. _

_Your dragon bitch, the little dove, and I shall watch from the battlements as you make your way to the keep. One false move, Jon Snow, and you'll be going home with twin silver and red capped heads. _

_I hope you choose better than your mad father ever did._

_Queen Cersei of House Lannister, first of her name_

_Queen of the Andals and the First Men,_

_Protector of the Seven Kingdoms"_

Despite being slightly unnerved by Sansa's resolve, Cersei will get what she wants. 

She'll give Jon Snow the farce of a choice. 

She has already decreed who will die tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the first chapter got me overwhelmed as hell! Thank you! I hope you like this next one. Let me know how you feel about this and who you want to hear from next.


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